Red
by Sir Quetzalcoatl
Summary: Hyrule is being torn apart due to its military-run dictatorship and a group of violent rebels who wish to take over. This is not a story where the heroes win. This is not a story about heroes at all. This is about trying to survive. This is about death. This is about love beyond control. Rating may change in later chapters. [For Writer of Worlds's Feels Hurt Contest.]
1. Chapter 1

**This is for Writer of World's "Feels Hurt Contest." It's supposed to be sad.**

 **There's a lot of sadness going on in the world right now so I thought that maybe I didn't want to do this. Last minute, I came up with this.**

 **I wrote this story thinking about the Syria. My story will never compare to the horror going on there. The stories I've read of some of the survivors are absolutely heartbreaking. I already know my story will not capture the same sadness and horror going on there yet it is the inspiration for this shoddy work.**

 **This will hopefully, at the most, only take up five chapters at the most. I'm hoping to do it in three parts but I don't know. We will see.**

* * *

"I dare you to eat it," Link said. We were both in his garden. It was a place we liked to go to after my lessons. For as long as I could remember, Link and I had loved his Mother's vegetable garden. We spent time here as toddlers, playing make believe scenarios before moving on to just taking walks and gossiping about the students in our class.

I stared at the tomato, weighing it in my hand. It was an unnaturally deep shade of red, perfect in size and shape. There were no marks on its flawless skin. "You can't just _eat_ a tomato raw," I said, my voice lofty. I was always doing that, even at fourteen. Even when Link was two years older than I. He always teased me about being a whole two years younger for as long as I could remember him being in my life, and as a result, I was always trying to outsmart him, trying to prove that I was better.

"So you're a chicken," Link said, a slight devilish grin overtaking his features.

"Am not!" I protested. It was a cloudless day, and it was deceptively quiet. "Though you're an ass," I added.

He shoved me none too gently and I almost toppled over backward, but steadied myself at the last moment, grounding the tomato in the dirt in the process. "That wasn't nice," I protested.

He shrugged, his eyes flashing dark. Was he angry? I slowly sat upright, tomato now slightly bruised. I took his hand in mine and placed the tomato in his hand, closing his fingers over it. Because his hand was much larger than mine, his fingers rounded over them more than mine had. "Here," I said. "You eat it."

"Why would I want this?" he muttered, his eyes not meeting mine.

I hated when Link was angry at me. He was my most important person in the world. I'd known him since my parents and I moved to Ordon next door to him. Link and I were inseparable. He was my best friend. My very best friend.

And maybe something more. Or at least, I hoped. For some months I felt shy around him, watching the sun light up the gold in his hair. "I'm sorry," I said. "You're not really an ass."

He looked at me this time, his cheeks reddening. I knew he was embarrassed that he had gotten angry over my comment. And suddenly it was just a little awkward between us, the silence only punctuated by the slight breeze carrying the scent of blossoming flowers. It was spring in Hyrule and even with the rumors circulating about how Hyrule was currently in civil unrest, I couldn't _not_ take the chance to be outside. Mother warned me so many times about not going outside unsupervised nowadays. She had watched the news much more often now, religiously tracking where the rebels would be next and praying fervently that they would never reach Ordon. but I couldn't just _not_ see Link outside of school. I couldn't ever think about leaving Hyrule, though Link had always told me he'd wanted to go and travel the world.

Link lifted the tomato to his lips and my heart tugged painfully. I was envious of that tomato. I watched him bite into the tomato. The juice exploded over his mouth almost at the same moment I heard a firework go off with a loud _pop!_

Instantly curious, I turned toward the direction it came from. I can't be sure but I thought it came from the right, somewhere where my house is. I frowned. It was not National Pride Day so the fireworks bit puzzled me. I turned back to Link, and he was not looking at me anymore, nor was he chewing at the tomato. His lips were coated in red tomato juice. His whole expression was frozen. I watched a trickle of juice slide down the side of his chin, his ears poised and alert.

"What do you think that was?" I asked and then there were two more firework noises. They sounded more insistent, angrier this time. And suddenly I understood. I stared at Link's face who had now unfrozen just enough to look at me, the horror in his eyes evident by how the irises in his eyes tightened. My heart beat quicker and I stand up, panic rushing through my blood. I try to ignore the redness of the tomatoes surrounding us.

"Zelda," Link said, and his voice which was usually slightly prepubescent, was raw with urgency. "Don't."

I ignored his command when I heard another shot ring out. They were not fireworks. They were coming from my house. I nearly stumbled over turning around. I felt Link's fingers wrap around my ankle as I took one step and I tripped, falling into the freshly turned soil, crushing the tomatoes around me. I felt the juice seep into my skin, my hair, I could smell the heaviness in its scent.

"Let go of me, Link," I said, my voice faint. Instead his grip on me tightened and he grabbed my shoulder pulling me backward against him. I tasted fresh dirt. "Let go of me!" I yelled. Blood was pounding in my ears and my fingers had gone numb and clumsy. All I could think of was Mother and Father.

"No," he hissed, his voice suddenly at my ear. He wrapped his arms around me so that I couldn't struggle against him. I tried anyway. I heard two more gunshots and whimpered, struggling harder. I saw the world tilt and blur and tried my hardest, my limbs working against his but Link was too strong.

I don't know how long I worked my arms against him when I finally gave into exhaustion and there were no more gunshots. He shifted me so that the side of my head was pressed against his chest and he held me tight. "I'm so sorry, Zelda," he said. Vaguely, I wondered why he was sorry. His parents hadn't died. He hadn't killed them. My parents couldn't be dead either. Those noises had to be fireworks. "I had to do it. I had to keep you safe." His voice sounded thick, scared. "I couldn't lose you." His hand was in my hair, running his fingers through the remnants of tomato juice and clumps of dirt stuck to my hair. I closed my eyes.

I was listening to the way his heart beat against my ear. It was quick, nervous, fragile. It was frightened. But the rhythm calmed me down. I focused on that heartbeat. I don't know what came over me but it was comforting. I had Link at least.

I don't know how long we held each other like that, but eventually when I opened my eyes the sun had begun to set and when I made to get up, Link didn't restrain me. "I have to see check up on my parents," I said in a calm voice. "I need to see if they're alive."

Link watched me, fear in his eyes. I think he saw something there. That even though I said that I wanted to see if they were alive or not, I still knew the answer. Then he nodded.

I meandered down the hill, vaguely noticing how quiet it was. The breeze blew through my hair, deceptively gentle.

When I reached my house it was as I thought it would be. There was no shock. The revolution had spread here. There would be blood. The door was ajar, the lights still on. I could make out the cheerful yellow my parents had painted the interior of our house with. Mother had always complained it was too bright on the eyes but Father had loved the yellow. _We need color in our lives, don't you think, Zel?_

I was thinking of how he had said that to me, the way his fingers brushed through the top of my hair carelessly. I remember the way he'd looked at me conspiratorially, him winking at me, before turning to Mother whose face was flushed in anger and was scrubbing a pot at the kitchen. I pushed open the door. The television was thoroughly smashed and it was sparking slightly. I tried to picture what had happened. My parents were fond of watching the television. My mother had always wanted to wear make up like the movie starlets in Altea but make up had been getting more expensive until it was hard to find. The rebels had been stealing and razing stores that sold it, saying it was forbidden to wear.

I found them in their bedroom. Father was on the bed with three bullet wounds at his chest. There was a damp spot in the seat of his pants. I pretended I didn't notice that part. I got down on my knees and found Mother half hidden under the bed, half naked, the insides of her thighs red. I looked around and noticed how much red there was in the room. More red than yellow. I remember thinking it was almost like Link's tomato garden and then I felt the world tilt around me.

I think I died.

Dying would have been great.

Instead, the Goddesses punished me by keeping me alive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Trigger Warning: Masturbation scene. Sexual harassment. Vulgar language.**

* * *

 **Four years later**

Zelda woke up to the smell of fresh bread baking. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, a small smile drifting over her face. Baking bread had been one of her most favorite smells. There was always a sense of home and belonging accompanying the warm scent. She rolled over on the bed, expecting to see Link already awake but his back was turned toward her. He was wearing an undershirt and sweatpants, the things he usually wore when he went to bed. Or so Zelda thought. Perhaps he wore even less clothes when she wasn't sharing his bed. Just like always, she felt her heart beat quicker when she saw him. She thought that eventually, after being married to him for two years, she would get used to seeing him but there was always that bolt of lightning that pulsed through her when she saw him. How was it possible that after all these years, she was still pining over him?

She watched his back for a few minutes, the affection in her chest swelling rapidly. She counted the amount of times he breathed, reveled in the way his breathing was slow, patient, steady. She watched the nape of his neck, warmth flooding her even more. There was a mole right underneath his hairline, that Zelda focused on whenever she glimpsed the back of him. Hesitantly, she stretched out a hand, wondering what it would be like to touch his skin this intimately. She was almost at his neck too when -

"Morning, Zel," he said, his voice scratchy from the morning. Like lightning, Zelda snapped her hand back, color flooding her cheeks.

"Good morning," she said, her heart in her throat. She pulled the blanket up to her chin, suddenly feeling exposed. It was ridiculous. She was wearing a long sleeved pajama shirt and loose pants that went past her ankles and yet here she was feeling naked. "How was your sleep?"

"Sleep is sleep." He rolled over and gave her a careless grin, and though it was a simple act, Zelda felt her heart flip-flop.

At twenty years old, Link was probably the most handsome man Zelda had ever met. His eyes had gotten bluer every day, his nose was bridged perfectly, and his mouth was devilish. Zelda had countless dreams about that mouth that left her waking up with wetness between her legs. Even the stubble on his chin and cheeks served to only make him even more handsome.

It was agony, she decided. Agony that this man who was her best friend, who she longed for more than anything else, who she shared a bed with and who she was married to, all of these things were agony if she couldn't really _be_ with him.

Link rubbed at his eyes. "Do I have bad breath?" He blew in her direction and sure enough, an odious scent assailed her nostrils.

So maybe he wasn't all that perfect. She wrinkled her nose. "That's disgusting!"

His smile broke into a full-fledged grin. "I just woke up!"

"You didn't have to demonstrate," she shot back. "I know you have bad breath in the morning. We all do."

He arched an eyebrow at her, a lock of blond hair falling into his face. "I've never smelled yours."

"Because I'm not mean enough to expose you to it."

"So you admit you have bad breath."

Zelda huffed, and threw the blanket down, sitting upright. She swung off her side, hearing Link's quiet laughter. "Oh come on, Zel!" he said.

"Not funny!" she called out, heading toward the bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror. At eighteen years old, Zelda was perhaps the spitting image of her mother. At some point, she might have even considered herself beautiful if she was allowed to keep up with her looks but it was hard.

The rebels had completely taken over Hyrule at this point and the laws dictated that make up was a crime punishable by fifty lashes. Zelda had once been subjected to ten. Her crime? The robe she wore was too tight and therefore, too revealing. The scars on her back from that time were faint, but a person could still see the pink lines stand out against the rest of her back. Since then, Link's grandmother had suggested Zelda not go out unless she was with Link, a fact that Zelda loathed. It wasn't so much that she found Link's company unbearable. But if she had to go grocery shopping and buy things like sanitary napkins for her period, she hated having Link witnessing that, though he didn't seem to mind. She also fervently missed going to the market alone. There was a sense of independence doing certain things by yourself that she missed.

After brushing her teeth and showering, Zelda stepped out, rubbing her hair in her towel and cheerfully stated, "All yours."

"Better not have used up all the hot water," Link warned. Zelda avoided rolling her eyes at him and instead headed to the kitchen where Grandma was waiting.

Ever since she was young, Zelda always called Link's grandmother, Grandma and even after marriage, Grandma had insisted on having her call her that. Her hair was swept up in a bun and she was hovering over the gas stove, humming quietly to herself. She had a ladle in one hand.

"Good morning, Grandma," Zelda said.

"Morning, child," Grandma responded cheerfully, just as there was a loud yell.

"Zelda! You used up all the hot water!" She heard him holler.

She barely managed to suppress a smile. Grandma however, chuckled quietly. "That ought to get him fully awake."

This response elicited a laugh from Zelda, one which Grandma fully joined in. Once the laughter died, Zelda and her sat in silence, listening to the shower. Then, "I smell bread," Zelda said. "Fresh bread. Did something happen?"

Grandma smiled. "Yes. You and Link finally got an interview."

Interest piqued, Zelda looked over at her. "That's wonderful!" About a year ago, when the bombings had gotten really bad, Zelda had applied for refugee papers so that she, Grandma and Link could escape to Altea. Zelda knew she would miss Hyrule with all her heart, but living here seemed to no longer be an option. Living had become unbearable.

"Yes, that's what I thought too," Grandma said. She knocked the ladle against the oven, a grin settling over her face. "Hence the bread."

"Grandma, thank you. You're the best." Zelda meant it sincerely. It had been Grandma, more than even Link, who had really made her feel like she was at home. Their house wasn't as big nor as comfortable as her old home, but it didn't matter. Grandma had softened the blow Zelda had taken when she'd lost her own parents.

"No, my dear. You are. You marrying my son was the best thing I could have hoped for." She sighed wistfully. "Now you and Link can move to Altea, and have children and that will be my last wish fulfilled before I meet my Maker."

At this, Zelda stiffened. She felt her cheeks flame as she stared guiltily around the kitchen, everywhere but Grandma. "Erm..." she said, casting about for any subject. "What do you mean Link and I? What about you? Are you not coming in for the interview?"

Grandma shook her head. "I was not chosen, my dear."

Zelda was about to ask what she meant by that, but Link had beat her to it. "What's this about not being chosen?"

Zelda turned to look at him where he was standing at the entrance and immediately blanched. "Put on some clothes!" she said in a high-pitched voice. Link was wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He was currently running a smaller towel through his wet, blond hair. A drop of water ran down his neck, down to his chest, down to his navel and disappeared into the towel. Zelda turned red and averted her gaze.

Grandma clucked. "Two years you've been married and you still act like a blushing bride. Come now, Zelda. It's nothing you nor I haven't seen before."

Though she wasn't looking at Link, she heard a sly smirk in his voice when he said, "Yeah. Nothing you haven't seen before." Which was a lie. He knew as well as she did that she rarely saw him this naked before.

"It's still odd!" Zelda protested. "You should be ashamed."

"What a good, modest woman," Grandma said. "She has a point, boy. Put on some clothes. I can't take you seriously like that." She gestured to his broad chest dismissively.

Link ran a hand through his damp blond hair. His hair was usually a cheery, summary yellow, but now that it was wet it had taken on the quality of a burnished, dulled golden hue. His blue eyes cut through Grandma's, ignoring her jab. "What do you mean you weren't chosen?"

Grandma sighed, realizing he wouldn't go away. "I wasn't chosen to interview. Only you and Zelda were."

"We're not going, then," Zelda responded. She furrowed her eyebrows, and set her mouth into a grim line. Living every day here was a new kind of torture. Wrapping herself up in layers of loose clothing, unable to feel the wind caress her hair, nor read books with abandon as she used to. Now all that was left were books of the religion, or books that were so censored, that there was no point in reading them. Television was also banned, though Zelda had buried hers. She had not dared to unearth it to watch any videos.

To be sure, Hyrule had been worse off ever since the rebels took over and Zelda knew that anywhere was better than here. But none of that mattered if Grandma couldn't come with them.

"My dear, don't say such things," Grandma chided gently. "You _will_ go to that interview."

Link glanced at Zelda. One look, and they understood that they were united in their decision. Link said, "Escaping from this place doesn't matter if you can't come with us."

"My son." Grandma shook her head. "I will always be with you and Zelda even here. Even were I chosen to go to the interview, I would not go." She sighed. "I made a promise long ago to your grandfather that I would die here in Hyrule beside him. I know I no longer have the luxury of hoping that I can be buried beside him, but at least I can die here in Hyrule."

Zelda flinched. "Don't say that."

Grandma smiled. "Even being surrounded by it, death still frightens you, doesn't it?" She threw her head back and laughed when Zelda looked away, refusing to respond. "Good. It means you still have hope. Don't worry about me. Go to the interview. That's a command."

"Grandma..." Link said, but trailed off.

"And you, young man," Grandma said, her voice going stern, "Don't you want better for your wife?"

"But I can't just leave you-"

"You can, and you will. Your wife always comes first. I will hear no further arguments about this."

Once again, Zelda and Link exchanged looks. Zelda didn't know how to properly apologize.

* * *

They walked silently. Zelda had shrouded herself in black robes and had covered every part of her but her eyes. In a way, covering herself like this was comforting; nobody, apart from Link knew who she was. She could walk around anonymously and observe at will.

"I'm sorry, Link," she said, breaking the silence first as they crossed the street. There weren't that many cars, but Link still clutched at her hand, and looked left and right before pulling her along. "I didn't mean to put you in this position."

"Hey," Link said and pulled her to him so that he could look at her in the eye. "Marrying you was my decision too. And remember, it was my suggestion first."

"I know but..."

A lopsided smirk appeared on his face. "I know, you've probably regretted it, haven't you? Agreeing to marry me."

Zelda's heart beat quickly. When he smiled at her like that, she longed to touch his face, to kiss him. She loved him too much to jeopardize what they already had. She shook her head vigorously. "No, of course not. You... you saved me. But what if we pass the interview and you have to give up Grandma? This isn't right. You shouldn't have married me if it came down to this."

He sighed, rubbing his bristly chin. "Well," he said thoughtfully. "You are more trouble than I bargained for," he said slowly. "I never thought you'd make such a terrible cook." Zelda's pleading look changed into a frown. " _Or_ use up _all_ the hot water. Maybe I ought to go in first just so you know how it feels to take cold showers."

She pushed him away from her and he laughed, reeling away.

"Halt! What's happening here?" A man sternly called out. He was dressed in the rebel officer's uniform, Zelda noted. He had bristly black hair and bulging biceps. The scars on her back twitched and she tried not to show the fear in her eyes. Yet she drew slightly closer to Link. "Do you know the penalty of touching a man who is not your husband, father, brother, or uncle?"

Zelda turned white. Link on the other hand, put his arm around Zelda reassuringly. "This is my wife, officer."

"Your wife, eh?" the rebel responded. Though Zelda was fully swathed in black, she could feel the man's eyes raking through her clothes and it was like he was undressing her. She averted her eyes and pressed closer to Link, drawing comfort from his warmth. "Maybe you ought to teach her some respect. Saw her pushing you. What kind of a husband allows that kind of behavior?"

She felt Link tense up against her. She knew he was angry. "We were only playing, sir," he said through gritted teeth.

"My husband knows to keep me in check," Zelda said, keeping her voice low.

"Did I say you could speak?" The rebel asked, his voice growing louder. "It seems your husband hasn't done enough. I ought to turn you in for your insolence. The price for talking when not spoken to is five lashes you know."

Zelda couldn't help it; she was trembling now.

"Scared?" The officer asked loudly.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Yes, _sir_ ," the officer corrected her. "I might let you off the hook for your multiple crimes."

"You are too kind," she murmured.

"But in exchange, I would like to see your face."

"Sir?" Link asked this now and when Zelda turned to look at him from the corner of her eye, she was surprised to see his eyes blazing furiously at the man. "That's unlawful."

The officer sneered at Link. "Sometimes you must bend the rules to get what you want."

"Forget it. Punish me instead." Link's grip on her grew even tighter.

"Link, no," Zelda said softly. "It's okay. It's just my face," she whispered to him. "Nothing anybody has seen before this mess happened."

Link glowered at the man. "Fine," he growled to her. "But only because you're fine with it."

Because it was forbidden for a woman to reveal her face, the man led them to a more secluded alley. Zelda faced the man. She slowly unhooked her veil so that it dropped down, revealing her whole face. She watched as the man greedily looked at her face. "Your robes too." Zelda hesitated, before unhooking her robes too, revealing clothes that actually fit her, trousers and a tunic that showed off the shape of her waist and breasts. She saw him staring at her breasts for a long time.

"What a vision," he breathed. Zelda noticed his hand snaking into the band of his pants and tried to erase the observance from her memory. "Like that of an angel sent from God Almighty himself." His voice hitched slightly. She tried not to notice it, but it was hard not to notice his hands rapidly moving under the material of his pants. "You may have an angelic face, but you want me to fuck you, don't you? It's always the most innocent ones who think the nastiest thoughts. Dirty whore."

Zelda said nothing, but she wanted the earth to swallow her. She couldn't begin to imagine what Link must think. _Link_... She thought to herself. She had never even kissed Link, and now here she was watching a man stroke himself to the image of her.

She felt her insides cringing. She felt ashamed. She felt like she was being raped even though the man stood at least ten feet away from her.

"You fucking slut. You want your mouth around my dick, is that it?" The man seemed to be saying this to himself more than to her. His voice became more strangled and finally he let out a long, gurgled moan. The seat of his pants grew damp, and the movement under his pants slowed down until it was fully stopped.

"Get out and forget you saw anything," he told her, withdrawing his hand. There was something wet, slightly white liquid on his fingers that he wiped on the brick wall next to him. "And if I see you again, sinning," he warned. "I'm sure your husband would hate for you to be punished physically. I will let you off the hook... for a heftier price." He was still panting as he said this.

Zelda bowed her head, and hooked up her robes and veil again. She tried to move away as quickly as possible. Link was at her side but she couldn't even look at him, let alone talk to him. Her cheeks burned. She didn't know what to say. Link's silence was almost deafening.

When they were about two blocks away from the refugee interviewing center she turned to face him. "Say something," she begged.

His jaw worked furiously for a moment, before he said in a carefully neutral voice, "I have nothing to say."

"This interview is important. I didn't want us to get derailed..."

"I know." His voice was now curt.

"Link, please-"

"I told you I had nothing to say, didn't I, Zelda? I'm not really your husband."

The words slapped her in the face. "I know," she said, her voice unnaturally high.

"So it doesn't matter what I thought of what happened back there."

Zelda frowned. She felt tears spring at the corners of her eyes and swiped at them angrily. "But you're my friend, aren't you?"

"Obviously."

"Don't you care?"

He took a deep breath. "No, I don't. And I don't really care to discuss this anyway. We're here."

And so they were. The interview center loomed before them. And despite the anger and hurt that coursed through Zelda she felt fear shoot through her limbs. If their interview went okay, then maybe things would be easier. Maybe they would finally be free.


	3. Chapter 3

"My name is Marth Lowell, and I represent the Altean embassy. I'll be interviewing you two. Just relax, have a seat. Do you need anything to drink?"

The man who sat in front of them, Zelda couldn't help but notice, was incredibly handsome. He had a timeless grace to his face, and the way his hair framed his face only added to the beauty he had. "No thank you," she said.

"Just a water," Link responded, his voice still curt. Zelda almost flinched at his voice. She had never heard him be so angry. He had called their marriage a sham which was true of course. Link didn't - _couldn't_ \- really love her, she supposed.

Marth's office was beyond luxurious. The embassy itself had fully operational air conditioning and Marth's desk looked grand. Behind him was a large, potted plant that seemed to be in perfect condition.

They sat in silence as Marth flipped through their files. "It seems to be that everything here is in order. You two were raised here in Ordon, correct?"

"Yes," Link responded. "I was born here, but Zelda was born in Kakuriko."

She watched Marth's face twist into a sympathetic frown. "Ah yes, unfortunate. I heard the place was demolished when they refused to relinquish control to the rebels. I'm sorry that happened. And I'm to assume you two want to leave because of the present situation."

"Living here is unbearable," Zelda said. She couldn't get the image of that officer using her like that out of her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to stop trembling.

"Especially for a woman, I'm sure," Marth said, watching her closely. "Your parents...?"

"They died when I was sixteen," Zelda said. Her first lie. But it had been the lie that she and Link had agreed upon. She had told herself it wasn't such a big lie anyway. They had died when she was fourteen, of course. What difference did two years make? Death was death. "Rebels raided their house and shot them."

"Where were you when this happened?" Marth asked gently.

"I... I was already married and living with my husband." The word 'husband' now seemed more of a lie than before.

Something in her voice must have alerted Marth because he said, "Yes, you mentioned you were married to Link once you turned sixteen."

"We are married," Link said, his voice thick with something Zelda couldn't identify. "We grew up as neighbors. Our parents saw us play all the time and thought we would someday make a good match."

"So am I to assume this was a marriage arranged by both your parents?"

Zelda felt her heart squeeze painfully at this. "He was my best friend since I was beginning to talk. It was fate that brought me such a courageous, kind person to me."

Marth's eyes softened at this. "Sorry to interrogate you on this matter. It's just that if we find any discrepancy about whether or not your marriage is fake, the feelings, the fact of whether or not you've even consummated your marriage, it becomes infinitely harder to get you both to Altea. In Altea, unless you're royalty, arranged marriage is considered strange. Most of our marriages are love marriages."

Zelda sighed. "That sounds lovely." Next to her, Link stiffened.

Marth chuckled. "Well, it seems to me that yours is a love marriage to me. Often times, we find in Hyrule applicants that the man married the woman to get a visa more quickly, or that the woman married the man to protect herself from getting sold as a sex slave or married to a rebel himself in the case that she's orphaned."

Link and Zelda didn't dare exchange a look at that. The truth was that Marth had described the reason of their marriage perfectly. Link had, after all, agreed to marry Zelda when it became apparent that she couldn't live by herself and she was in danger of being found out by the rebels. She remembered that day well. He had sworn to marry her to protect her. He hadn't mentioned being in love with her at all, a fact that haunted Zelda to this day.

She had agreed of course. Agreed because she would rather die than marry a rebel. Agreed because she knew Link, trusted Link, knew that Link would treat her properly and not like somebody who was not his equal. Agreed because she had been in love with him for a long time and her feelings ran deep.

And yet it was torture to be married to this man who had not kissed her, had not held her, and even went to bed fully clothed for her benefit. They shared a bed, but they shared no intimacy beyond that of platonic friendship. But oh how she wished she could touch him in a way that could suggest they were lovers.

For the next few hours Marth questioned them about their lives, their relatives, what Link did as a job ("I work as a ranch hand at Talon's Ranch.") and as the clock ticked by, Zelda could see that Link was getting more antsy, his leg shaking, moving up and down. Link hated sitting idly. He always needed to do something. Zelda slid her hand underneath the table on top of his leg and he stopped jogging his his up and down. He placed his hand on top of hers and for a moment, Zelda imagined they were holding hands. But the next second, he had moved it aside.

"What do you think of the Hylian conflict?" Marth asked.

"I don't know. I honestly don't care. I just want to get out alive," Zelda responded. "At this point I hope for peace, but I know it may not happen."

Marth nodded and turned to Link. "And you?"

Link fidgeted in his seat for a moment, looking at his hands. Then he turned his head up to Marth. "I have never sympathized with the current government."

Zelda flinched. This was not what they had agreed on. They had agreed to stay out of politics as much as possible during the appointment, something Link had impressed on Zelda, not the other way around. "Link," she said, just the barest hint of warning in her voice.

"Hyrule's current government was what led to this in the first place. If they had just listened to the people's wishes this war wouldn't have begun. Our government was corrupt. Our leader, Ganondorf, has been prime minister for over twenty years. He's overstayed his position by ten years and taxes continue to increase each year. It only hurts the poor and middle class. What do you think happens when the poor and middle class are beaten back that much?"

Zelda looked at him in surprise. These were her words. Zelda had always been the one who had gotten angry and talked about politics. Link had never been much for it, always content to listen to what she had to say.

Marth studied him, his eyebrows raised, but didn't say a word.

"They revolt. And when we revolted, it was peaceful. We were just peacefully marching down the streets when Ganondorf's army shot us all down and used tear gas on us."

"You were there?" Marth asked quietly.

He hadn't been. Neither of them had. But they'd heard through whispers and unauthorized radio broadcasts since nobody was supposed to hear about it. "It doesn't matter if I was. Those were my people and I felt it in my heart."

"It sounds a lot like you sympathize with the rebels, Mr. Avalon."

Link glared at Marth, his arms folded across his broad chest. "I hate them too. But I understand why they resorted to violence."

" _Link_ ," Zelda said again, warningly. She cast an anxious glance at Marth.

"Don't 'Link' me," he said, whirling on her. "You think the same, don't you?"

"Can we talk about this at a more appropriate time?"

Link just stared at her, which made her sigh. She turned to face Marth. She was already in too deep. "I did not particularly enjoy Ganondorf's regime either. I was told when he was first elected he was charismatic, charming and promised us all a better future. But he only made things worse. There's a deep imbalance of classes and nobody was happy. So yes, I was against his government. But," she added hastily, "It does not mean I'm a rebel sympathizer! I think what they want to do is far worse than what Ganondorf has already done. They plan to turn this into a extremist religious-run government but they are hypocritical and resort to violence when that is not the way of our religion. They take sex slaves, behead people for the smallest transgressions and take people to underground prisons and beat them just for watching Altean movies. More than three quarters of the books in my local library are gone, burned because they contained ideas that the rebels thought were offensive and needed to be censored. This is not what I wanted."

"I hear you, Mrs. Avalon," Marth reassured her. "You don't look like a rebel sympathizer to me."

He stamped something in their files, and shut it. "I'll take this in for processing. In the mean time, wait several weeks. It shouldn't take longer than a month to hear from us. Have a good day."

They all got up, Link a little more unsteadier than Zelda. Then they both left without another word.

* * *

Link still had a dark expression on his face, but it didn't stop Zelda from rounding on him. "What were you thinking?" she demanded.

He stopped short, looking down at her. "What do you mean?"

"I thought we agreed it was too dangerous to talk about politics. If they suspect we're allied with the rebels, we'll never get out."

His expression darkened further. "And you want that? You want to get out?"

Zelda frowned. "Obviously, I do. Link, if what happened back there with that officer was any indication... I really do."

He flinched at her words, and sidestepped her, walking and not meeting her eyes.

"What?" She asked, rushing to keep up with him. "What is it?"

He walked faster and she had to practically jog to keep up. She grabbed his shoulder and he stopped immediately. Her hand was still on his shoulder, but she didn't force him to turn around. "What's wrong?"

There was a long pause. Then he said, "I couldn't protect you."

"What?"

"Back in that alley. That man made you... unrobe and uncover your face..."

"He didn't touch me Link. He didn't even see me naked."

"But he... he... he still... It's like he raped you without touching you and I couldn't do anything."

Unconsciously, Zelda squeezed his shoulder. "Link, you have done so much for me already. If you hadn't... if you hadn't married me, worse things would have happened to me."

Link turned around at her touch. "It doesn't matter. That's the least I could have done." He closed his eyes and opened them. "I'm sorry. I'm talking about myself when you're the one who needs comfort. Here I am, taking it out on you. Are you okay?"

He took a step closer to her and to her surprise, he grabbed her hand. She felt her heart flip flop. "Your hand is cold."

 _Only because you're touching me_. "It's cold outside."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "It's summer."

"Remember what we used to do during summer holidays? Right when school got out, I'd rush over to your house and we'd pick the tomatoes for Grandma and she'd make that tomato soup of hers?"

He didn't let go of her hand. "We used to make it a contest who'd get the most." He paused, the familiar twinkle in his eye coming back.

"I usually won," they both said at the same time and they both laughed in surprise.

 _This is the Link I fell for_ , she thought to herself as she saw the summer in his smile, the soft, warm breeze in the light of his eyes. This was the Link she remembered. Not the Link whose silences were dour, whose shoulders looked like they'd been so tired of holding the earth up.

He was still holding her hand even after their laughter died and they were walking home. "Hey," she said.

The corner of his mouth lifted and he looked at her from the corner of his eye. "Hey."

"Even if we don't get to leave, it's worth it."

He cocked an eyebrow. "What is?"

"Being with you. It's worth it. I never thought I could be happy after my parents died. You didn't have to take me in. You could have left, started a life with somebody else."

"Who else could I beat at picking tomatoes in?" The grin was still on his face. "Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

He faced her suddenly, his fingers sliding from her hand, only to brush against her right temple. He tucked strands of hair behind her ear, smoothing her hair back in the process, caressing the side of her face in the process. She stood absolutely still as he touched her and locked his eyes on her. Finally he dropped his hand. "Nothing."

Three weeks later, Zelda got a letter in the mail. They'd been accepted as refugees in Altea.


End file.
